


Bring It On Back

by my_words



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Breathplay, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-20
Updated: 2012-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-03 23:57:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_words/pseuds/my_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently, I can't say no, and the song Chokehold can't either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring It On Back

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own them; Don't own the song. The words are all made up.

The place he goes to is quiet and dark. Quiet and dark, but not cold. Never cold. The heat, the need, the flames are all around him here. Fuck, sometimes he thinks the flames _are_ him. He knows the fire is him, but sometimes it burns cold, and Tommy can’t stand the cold. 

The cold is the nothing times. The cold is when he feels dead inside. Adam knows when he’s feeling the cold. When Adam sees the cold building in him, he looks at him with eyes that scream _Get ready, boy. You’re gonna burn tonight_. Tommy feels himself warming up then. The ice that formed around his thoughts and his life begins to chip away, to crack and shatter, and he can start feeling again.

When he feels Adam’s hands on his neck, fingers pressing in just hard enough to leave faint colors that serve as markers for what comes later, he feels like he can finally breathe. It’s all so fucking ironic, Tommy thinks. The only time he can really breathe is when Adam’s hand is pressing into his skin, controlling how much air he gets, how much he needs.

But Adam understands his needs. Tommy thinks Adam understands them better than he does himself. He never would have known how much he needs this without Adam. He would never have guessed how alive it makes him feel to give Adam complete dominion over his very life. Adam didn’t bring him to this epiphany slowly or give him time to warm up to the idea. The first time Adam’s hand ended up on Tommy’s throat, he was gone. Being on stage, it could have ended so much worse than it did, but Adam knew just how far to take it. He went through the whole weak in the knees, almost fucking swooning thing, and Adam’s eyes flickered and lit up with the harshness of neon coming to life.

And that’s just one more way that their differences bring them closer together. Tommy needs this to find his quiet, dark place. Adam needs it for the rush he gets out of it, and the bright, brittle edge it gives him. Tommy needs it to help him be still; Adam needs it to keep himself going. Tommy needs the pain to remind himself how to feel. Adam needs to know he’s the one making Tommy feel.

Adam can always see his eyes going colder and colder until he can’t fight the shivers that run through him, even when he’s under the suffocating heat of the stage lights. When he can’t take it one more second without flying apart, Adam’s hand will be there, holding him still, pinning him in place, the pressure of his fingers telling Tommy just how much air he needs to keep going until later comes, and they can continue this in private.

And Adam’s fingers never lie to him. Adam’s hands never make promises they can’t keep. Tommy still shivers after Adam’s hands leave his throat, but they’re shivers of anticipation now. He can already feel the heat building in his belly, working its way out to his fingers and toes, chasing each and every thought he has, until his whole world is lit up with the dark glow of the flames. 

Adam lets this grow, too. He lets Tommy get to the very edge before he pulls him back, making Tommy tell him just how much is enough, and how far is too far. Adam makes Tommy tiptoe along that line for hours, and hours, and fucking hours, until everything in him is screaming with a want and a need so big that it completely surrounds him, and engulfs him, and finally stills him. It carries him away to that secret place inside; that calm, still place where everything is warm. Adam finally lets him breathe then.

Then Adam strokes him and tells him how good he was, how good he _is_ , and Tommy can only lie still, watching how bright and light Adam is, feeling Adam’s energy popping and sizzling all around him, but not pulling him back from steadiness of his private place. 

They bring this to each other, over and over and over again. It’s good, and it works for them. If it ever isn’t good, they’ll stop - or so they tell themselves. Maybe someday they’ll be able to break away from this, but today isn’t that day.


End file.
